I have noticed that I have few ADHD symptoms when on vacation…if only my daily life were so simple! I have no bills to pay and no important deadlines to meet when checked out from the daily grind. I just have to be sure not to leave a bag at the airport and not to react negatively to loved ones who are accustomed to reminding me, thoughtfully, of what I need to do.

I’m the one who prefers keeping the hotel room clean. My clothes are on hangers and in drawers. I am on time for recreational and leisure activities. There is little competing for my attention, as I am looking ahead to just one activity at a given time. The experience is a reminder that the ADHD problem has more to do with inhibiting attention than the oversimplified notion that I am unable to focus. Unmanaged attention, not attention deficit, best describes our challenge.

A wandering mind is no problem on vacation. The so-called default system—a network of brain regions associated with daydreaming—normally turns on at night and recedes in the evening. Our ADHD brains don’t work that way. There is evidence that our default systems turn on easily during the day, corresponding with our difficulty activating the executive system, a network of brain regions associated with alertness and selective attention.

So, when life is simple, your brain can wander without interfering with your limited obligations. I will make my deadline for posting this and will still show up for the next scheduled activity. I have at least a half hour to get ready…plenty of time!

THIS is living well with ADHD…if only for a week!

At age 28, my father moved from one end of a rural county to the other, further from home than his seven siblings. At age 28, I drove my MGB across the country, interviewing for jobs in New Mexico and Arizona, and ending up on the west coast.

Recently, I found a letter in my attic that my dad’s mom sent to me after I had moved to Santa Monica. Ma Hattie had a fourth grade education and knew more than I will ever know about growing food and living off the land. She was both tough and gentle. Her grandfather had survived the Civil War, and her father died young from a logging accident. She raised eight children and some of her grandchildren, and she loved us all unconditionally. My father once said she was stronger than any two men he ever knew. She once told me that she married my grandfather because “he had a mule and two cows, and he didn’t know what to do with them.”

To be sure that her letter would arrive promptly, Ma Hattie wrote “Air Mail” on the envelope. The letter was dated May 23, 1978. It was written in cursive with little punctuation.

“Dear Terry, Just a few lines to let you hear from me am doing fine hope you are O.K. It sure has turn hot hear today Robert garden is real pretty The peas are in bloom. All my children are OK Dot and Anne have been to Florida and stayed a week I haven’t saw them since they got back but I have talk to them several times All the rest of the family are OK. Sherry is working in Nashville she is making six hundred a month said she has to type most all the time Marty works for Purity Milk Co in Nashville, Claud workes for the same company two and Tracy is in school, Kennett works in Brentwood for a Dentist fixing teeth, Charlie is in school and and is playing Ball two They played last nite but I don’t know how they come out over (“over” meant “turn the page over”) hope you have a good time but don’t stay two long. haven’t seen Glenn and Honor (my parents) since Mother day have got to get this in mail so be sweet and write…let me hear from you and don’t stay away two long. I love you. Ma Hattie.”

I’m proud to be Hattie Stovall Huff’s grandson. I moved back to Tennessee before the end of 1979. Ma Hattie began her decline into dementia soon after I returned. Eventually, she moved into a skilled nursing facility. When I visited her one day, she was lying in bed, unable to walk. She asked me whose boy I was. Then she reached up to touch my beard and said, “Cut them whiskers off; you look like an old man!” She smiled when I told her she just needed an excuse to touch the beard. The last thing I recall her saying to me was this: “I’ll get up in a minute and go to the kitchen to get you something to eat.” 

Driving home last night, I heard NPR “Fresh Air” host Terry Gross interviewing poet Molly McCully Brown, author of The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded, a book of poetry that “explores themes of disability, eugenics, and faith.” I caught only the end of the interview while driving, but was so moved that when I arrived home, I logged onto NPR and heard the entire interview.

Link to listen to the entire interview: http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2017/08/14/543362834/poet-imagines-life-inside-a-1910-institution-that-eugenics-built

What I had heard at the end was the author’s expression of appreciation for her brain. She has cerebral palsy. “Everything that is wrong with my body is a consequence of my brain,” she said. She added that it is “the same brain that has delivered me so many of the things that are most joyful in my life…that are useful and wonderful about who I am as a person.” The “ongoing project” of her life, she said, is grappling with “the simultaneous truth of both of those things.”

Because of her gross motor impairment, tight hamstrings, tight heel-strings, and crouched gait, Molly McCully Brown’s body “announces itself to the world” when she walks. She is most often in a wheelchair. When you listen to her poetry in this interview, you will observe the wonderful gift of that same brain that affects her gait and mobility.

You probably know what announces your ADHD to the world. The same brain that is impulsive, mindless, unfocused, and moody is also spontaneous, uncensored, creative, and spirited. The more competent you are, as the author is with her gift of poetic expression, the less your difference will matter. That is one good reason to find your passion and pursue it, to experience the joy of being. 

Do you work long hours and feel like you are working harder than others? Is it because you love your work, because you have trouble saying no, because you work inefficiently…or all of the above?

Writing a book was easier for me than writing progress notes after a day of psychotherapy sessions, but both created problems. Writing a book involved long stretches of laser-focused attention on a project of my choosing, which was stimulating at the time. But the intense focus on one task contributed to losing awareness of time, other priorities, and other people. I would practically forget that I had a spouse and a cat until I encountered one of them on the way to the bathroom. Writing progress notes, on the other hand, involves multiple breaks in the action, allowing time for my awareness to shift to “I’m hungry!” or “I’m about to miss the news!” or “I forgot to return a call to the client I was just writing about!” There seems to be no in-between for us…nothing between excessive focus and excessive distraction. 

Working in large offices in my early years, I was most productive when working late. When co-workers and clerical staff were gone, and there were no distractions or interruptions, I worked more efficiently and got more done. But getting home late every night created other problems. Are you finding ways to decrease or eliminate interruptions and distractions while others are still around?

I recall once asking an engineer who had too many bosses how he could stop them from interrupting his workflow, and he solved the problem like an engineer. He asked that everyone with an urgent request (and they were all urgent) write the request on an index card and pen it to his bulletin board beneath the most recent request. His colleagues, previously unaware of how many urgent requests he was getting daily, could see them all at once, and they became more respectful of his priorities.

Managing tasks and priorities requires spending some time in an open state of awareness before jumping into a focused state. Adults with ADHD often don’t think of prioritizing and planning as working. We tend instead to jump right into tasks willy nilly without a plan. You may have an aversion to it, but the most basic plan before starting a project can contribute to seamlessly staying on task.

In their Book, The Couple’s Guide to Thriving with ADHD, Melissa Orlov and Nancie Kohlenberger offer some tips for “balancing work and life.” They suggest that if we don’t achieve that balance, we are likely to have problems in our relationships. And God knows we don’t need to create more problems!

I saw “Maudie” this past weekend at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville. It was the best movie I’ve seen this year. Sally Hawkins’ performance as artist Maud Lewis was extraordinary.

In one scene, Everett (Ethan Hawke) wanted Maud to tell him who had thrown rocks at her as she walked down a country road to his house in Nova Scotia. Maud appeared undisturbed by the incident. She was accustomed to being taunted, having limped with arthritis since childhood. She was labeled a “cripple” by her family and people in the community. She told Everette that the rock throwers were only children. “Some people don’t like it when you’re different,” she said.

Indeed, some people don’t like difference. Spouses who once liked the excitement of dating someone with ADHD don’t like partnering with the difference in marriage. They often want the ADHD fixed…for them. I have heard many spouses say to their ADHD partners, “I’ve been in therapy fixing me; it is time you fixed yourself.”

Well, I wouldn’t mind having a “fix” for my ADHD, but I don’t expect to get one as an anniversary gift! And anyone who believes the ADHD difference is only a gift should tell me where I can exchange mine! I’m not that different from those troubled spouses; I like what is good about my ADHD brain and dislike what isn’t.

Being different from your spouse’s image of an ideal partner is not easy. But who is responsible for your partner’s choice to live with you, and for their response to your symptoms? Adults wishing to live well with ADHD can benefit from useful feedback that a partnership can offer, but also from not accepting sole responsibility for their partner’s happiness. The work of partnership is for both partners. 

Some people don’t like it when you’re different. John Elder Robison knows that well. The title of his second book about autism is Be Different. Maud Lewis dared to be different and was abused for much of her life. She paid a price for her difference, but she thrived by creating…and her patrons paid a price for her art.

Have you ever gone for weeks doing the same thing every day—driving the same way home from the office, bringing work home and ignoring it, eating fast as if meals are in the way, having the same thing for breakfast each morning?

What do you think would happen if you intentionally stepped out of your daily practice of mindlessness? What would it feel like to dance rather than jog early in the morning, to prioritize playing your guitar in the evening instead of watching television, to drive a different way home from work, to listen to different music, to read poetry?

Doing the same thing over and over, day after day, is not good for your brain. I once heard a neurologist say that having conversations with people who disagree with you is good for the brain because it is more difficult than having conversations with likeminded people. Respectful discourse has become so rare that the thought of it might feel dangerous in these times! But honestly, I think there are many who long for dialogue across the spectrum of opinions and ideas. Imagine the possibilities if everyone pulled their heads out of social media for a week or a month? 

Mindfulness us not the exclusive right of meditators. It is possible to sit mindlessly on a meditation cushion; I know that from personal experience. Sitting is the rule rather than the exception these days. Twenty-five centuries ago in India, people were moving around a lot more than we do now. Even in the first half of the twentieth century, when Mahatma Gandhi was meditating, he was stepping out of his normal practice of walking long distances. My father grew up on a farm with seven siblings and a mother who would not have allowed her kids to sit and do nothing. For many of us, stepping out should involve movement. 

I got my guitar out of its case tonight for the first time in…I don’t know how long. I keep it near a piano that occupies a corner of my home office. Although I often look in that direction, I seldom actually see the piano these days, much less sit on the piano stool. You would think there is a sign on it that says “Do not touch the keys!”

Although it is easier to play tunes on the stereo and experience music passively, I can also go months without playing my favorite John Coltrane or Miles Davis tunes. It is shameful to admit this. So, I am committing right now to stepping out more often and hope you will join me. If you want to enhance your mindful awareness in some other way than sitting still on a meditation cushion—and most adults with ADHD hate sitting still—experiment with stepping out in your own way. Then write a comment in the box below about your experiment and the effects that you observed.

I’ve been reluctant to blog about my sideview mirror. The story is embarrassing, and I don’t embarrass easily. It illustrates the inconvenience and expense of ADHD and impulsivity.

Years ago, my wife told me that I was driving my car too fast into the garage. “You’re going to hit the side of the garage one day,” she said. I told her not to worry. Entering the garage quickly was like shooting a free throw in basketball, which was my sport. There is one obvious problem with that analogy: No one makes 100% of their free throws!

I hadn’t accounted for the growing collection of lawn care supplies along the left wall of the garage, which was narrowing the opening that I had to navigate. My entry was getting closer to the right side. The first time I missed my free throw, I just barely clipped the sideview mirror, taking off only a small piece of the casing. The mirror remained in tact, so no big deal…only a cosmetic problem. The second time that I missed, a bigger piece came off, and eventually the mirror took a big hit and was no longer useful. I lost count of the missed shots, but I was still shooting over 90% from the free throw line, which would be competitive in the NBA.

I thought it might be best if I used the garage less often. But just like in basketball, when you don’t practice, you don’t shoot as well.

One morning last year, in a hurry to get to the office, I failed to exit the way I had entered the night before. The crunch is a horrible sound. This time, the mirror fell out quickly. It hung by the electric cords that normally would allow me to adjust the view.

I found some blue packaging tape in the garage that would keep the mirror secure in its white casing. I adjusted the mirror to where I needed it and applied the tape. My wife didn’t like the color of the tape. So, I switched to a transparent packaging tape. I tried to adjust the mirror after taping this time and cracked the mirror in the process. The transparent tape didn’t last too long in the humidity and rain of a Nashville summer, and so I resorted to rubber bands, which don’t last too long in humidity and rain.

The mirror isn’t functional now, but I still have to keep it attached and in the casing, or else it will hang by the cords and bang against the car door. I keep tape and rubber bands in the car now so I can change them frequently. I’ve learned to turn my head around like an owl before changing lanes on the freeway.

If you wonder why I haven’t replaced the sideview mirror, then you’ve never priced one. There is a silver lining in this story: The car is fifteen years old with a good engine that gets an oil change every 3,000 miles. It will be on the road for years to come. In time, it will have its third sideview mirror on the passenger side. It will be a pre-owned mirror!

I wish I could consistently think before I speak, or at least pause and consider the timing of what is on the tip of my tongue. Maybe biting my tongue would help. But if I did that as often as needed, I would not have a tongue. That might make my wife happy, but it would make it hard for me to taste my food.

We ate out last Saturday night and were seated on a patio very close to a table of heavy drinkers who were loud talkers. They were louder than the traffic nearby. The more they consumed, the more they cranked up the volume of their chatter. Our table was so close theirs that we were, in effect, sitting at their table, exposed to the nonsense that seemed to amuse them. I was annoyed, distracted, and barely able to hear my wife.

Normally, it is more noble not to have heard your wife than not to have listened to her. But on that night, hearing proved to be the bigger problem.

The waitress came to the table to ask if we wanted dessert (I’m lactose intolerant and never order dessert). I didn’t hear my wife’s answer. As the waitress was walking away, I asked my wife if she ordered dessert. Her judgment detector heard this: “Why are you adding more calories when you are on the Adkins diet?”

“Why did you ask if I was ordering a dessert?” she asked me later. “Why was that important to you?” I told her that it actually wasn’t important to me. “Then why did you ask?” Now here is the part in a conversation that stumps the partner with ADHD. I honestly didn’t know why I asked. I paused to contemplate the question. I wanted to give her an honest answer. Being unable to provide a quick and succinct response was all the evidence she needed to conclude that I was not being honest.

Next time, I will just smile, take her hand, and ask if she is enjoying the evening. But even if I had done that Saturday night, on that noisy patio, she wouldn’t have heard me, and she would have thought this: “He is taking my right hand so I cannot grasp my my fork…he is trying to distract me with a cheap smile…and now he has the nerve to ask if I am enjoying the eating.”

You believe that red lights and slow drivers make you late for work.
You have a fat file at AAA Road Service.
You can’t explain your scrapes and bruises.
Your cat is afraid to sit in your lap.
Your least favorite teacher gave you preferred seating…outside the classroom.
You forget to remember that you forget.
You often say you have plenty of time; you’ll do it later.
You often say you didn’t have enough time.
You give the wrong answer when a patrolman asks why you were speeding.
You are sick of the squirrel joke!

Do what you like and like what you do. Adults with ADHD have difficulty sustaining attention and effort when engaged in tasks that are not personally stimulating, or when working in a distracting environment. One of the best non-medical treatments for adult ADHD is finding the best match for a career. The wrong work environment can contribute to disabling symptoms.

Parents of college students with ADHD might be wise not to discourage unorthodox choices for academic majors, or even postponing college. One of my colleagues listened to experts who encouraged her to get a serious agent for her daughter, a gifted actor with ADHD. The daughter became a television star at age nineteen. She lives and works in Burbank, CA and could easily have been a bored college student, possibly underachieving, had she been forced to take a more “practical” path.

As a teenager, I escaped my father’s grocery store, where I had been sentenced to stocking shelves and bagging groceries. My dad just wanted me to work, no matter where, and allowed me to find jobs that provided more varied tasks. The best was working in a hardware store where I learned some useful skills. As a young adult I had a few part-time jobs in radio, getting paid to play music and read news for pay. Long before knowing I had an attention disorder, I recall often thinking that the worst thing someone could do to me is force me into a boring life.

In the early years after college, I experienced both boring and stimulating jobs. Some were about as interesting and challenging as watching the grass grow. Others were not the most stimulating jobs, but they provided opportunities to travel and expand my horizons. The best has been my career as a psychotherapist, allowing me to be useful, to have a relationship with many interesting people, and to meet with clients in a quiet environment with no distractions.

What is your ideal career? What have been the least and most stimulating jobs in your life?